


The Djinni Cafe

by Floral-Foxes (stilalalinski)



Category: Bartimaeus - Jonathan Stroud
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-12
Updated: 2015-03-12
Packaged: 2018-03-17 11:54:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3528464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stilalalinski/pseuds/Floral-Foxes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Though tired and weary it was, there was a certain charm, something alluring, about the desolate place that transfixed customers into coming back everyday. It wasn’t the coffee, which ran bitter down the throat, nor was it the company of others, who were grumpy on the best of days, there was simply something familiar about the place, something comforting. (Edited and re-uploaded)</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Djinni Cafe

The coffee shop was mediocre at best. The lights flickered overhead sporadically and the smell of burnt coffee was ingrained into every surface. It sat nestled in the corner of a lonely street just south of the city and saw little action. 

Though tired and weary it was, there was a certain charm, something alluring, about the desolate place that transfixed customers into coming back everyday. It wasn’t the coffee, which ran bitter down the throat, nor was it the company of others, who were grumpy on the best of days, there was simply something familiar about the place, something comforting. 

Rain beat the pavement outside, wind howled and swept leaves into the faces of damp passersby. A lone figure broke from the steady stream of people and slunk into a nearby alleyway. Blinking the water from his eyes he looked up at the tacky, blinking neon sign and then glanced at his phone to check he had the right place. Unfortunately, he did. 

Wrinkling his nose in disdain, Nathaniel pushed open the door to The Djinni Cafe. If it had been up to him, he would never have stepped foot into the establishment, but as a struggling college student, desperate times called for desperate measures. 

The door swung open and instantly the sweet aroma of coffee and baked goods hit Nathaniel’s nose and he breathed deeply; a calmness brushed his mind, a wave of nostalgia for his mum’s cooking curled deeply within his belly. A cold wind pushed at his back and Nathaniel bit a curse and returned to the present. Quickly he shut the door and began peeling the layers of wet clothing from his body. 

As he hung his dripping jacket on the coat rack he noticed the small scattering of customers throughout the shop. A glance at his watch confirmed it was 7:30 in the morning, and with how comfortable the customers looked, Nathaniel figured they had been there since the shop opened at 6. Some had newspapers laid out before them, others sat quietly sipping their coffee while watching the world pass by outside. 

The soothing sound of jazz filtered through the speakers and Nathaniel forced himself forward. A young barista was positioned behind the counter, her hair short and dark, her eyes studying Nathaniel with little-to-no interest. 

“Welcome to the Djinni Cafe, what can I get you, sir?” she said listlessly once he was closer. Nathaniel tugged lightly at the cuffs of his sleeves and straightened his posture.

“I’m actually here for the working interview.”

“Working interview?” She tucked a stray piece of hair behind her ear and quirked an eyebrow impatiently. 

“Uh, yes,” Nathaniel stumbled for the words, he didn’t expect the employs not to know what was going on. “I talked to someone on the phone. A woman. She told me to come down today for a working interview.” 

The woman in front of him sighed in exasperation. “That would’ve been Queezle. Well,” she said and clapped her hands together, “you’re here so we might as well do this thing. I’m Kitty, by the way.” Nathaniel shook her outstretched hand and introduced himself, as well. 

“So, are you the manager?” 

Kitty’s eyes filled with mirth, her lips curved into a sharp smile. “No, that would be Bartimaeus. You’ll meet him soon enough.” She ushered him around the counter and made room for him behind the register.

“First things first: What type of coffee do you drink?”

“Black,” Nathaniel said with an air of importance. 

“How stereotypical,” Kitty snorted and glided over to the brewing machine. 

“Stereotypical?” Nathaniel questioned, annoyance coloring his words. Kitty glanced at him and shrugged, a smile tugging at her lips.

“Yeah, you know, male college student, business, I’m guessing,” she said looking him over causing Nathaniel to tug self-consciously at his collar. “Probably stay up really late doing work, completely obsessed with gaining power and wealth. Feel you’re too good for those sugary lattes that aren’t ‘really coffee’. Ya know, stereotypical black coffee drinkers,” she finished and appraised him with cool eyes. Wordlessly she handed him his cup of coffee and Nathaniel took it silently. 

“Then how do you take yours?” he asked into the rim of his cup. Kitty shrugged and brushed past him towards the register.

“I’ll take whatever. As long as I get caffeine in the morning I’m fine.” 

“So you’ll drink black coffee?”

“Sure.”

“Then how are you different than me?” Nathaniel cried in outrage.

“I’m not a snob about it,” Kitty laughed at the color splotching Nathaniel’s cheeks. He spluttered noiselessly for a moment while Kitty wiped the counters and organized the work area. Shaking his head he took another sip of his coffee and pulled himself together.

“So, what do you want me to do?” 

Kitty hummed thoughtfully and tapped her chin. “I guess just watch what I do?” 

“Are you asking me or…”

“Shut up,” Kitty frowned and pulled absentmindedly on a strand of hair. “I’ve never done this before and no one was considerate enough to tell me I would be doing it. Actually,” here Kitty paused and gazed at the back entrance. “I don’t even know if Bartimaeus knows this is happening.” 

“The manager doesn’t know he’s potentially hiring someone new?” Nathaniel asked incredulously. Kitty pursed her lips and nodded. 

“Queezle’s last day is next Friday and she keeps trying to convince Bartimaeus that he needs to replace her,” Kitty shrugged, “but he’s stubborn and refused to look into it. So I guess she took it upon herself.” 

“An employee decided to hire someone?” Nathaniel was getting more and more suspicious as time went on. This establishment was all backwards. 

“They do if their boss is Bartimaeus.” 

The conversation was halted as a customer trudged into the small shop. They threw their wet belongings onto the coat rack and stumbled up to the register. For the next 20 or so minutes Nathaniel aptly watched as Kitty took orders and made coffee. The process, while at first seemed really daunting, was actually quite simple, and Nathaniel was looking forward to trying it for himself. 

It was about 8:20 when the door chimed open and Kitty hissed under her breath. Nathaniel glanced up sharply from the latte he had been trying to make and sent Kitty a questioning stare. She shook her head and forced a tight smile. Nathaniel’s gaze drifted up and he was met with the dark eyes of a pudgy and red faced man. He was as tall as he was fat and his clothes were all white, and Nathaniel guessed he was a chef of some sort. Kitty was stiff as she faced the man and Nathaniel automatically disliked him. 

“Can I help you?” She asked shortly and Nathaniel started at how cold her voice was. The man, if offended, showed no sign of it, only a deep sated amusement shone in his dark eyes. 

“I would like a coffee,” he said and his voice was deep and carried powerfully across the room. A door in the back room slammed open and suddenly a figure was pushing its way past Nathaniel. 

“Like hell you do,” the newcomer spat. Nathaniel was wide eyed at the man who had pushed past him. He was of medium build with long hair pulled haphazardly into a ponytail, a few strands fell against his dark and flawless face and Nathaniel stared transfixed. “What do you want, Faquarl?” the man said abruptly. 

“Why, Bartimaeus,” Faquarl gasped, “Can’t an old friend just stop by for coffee?” 

Bartimaeus (Nathaniel gasped ‘this was Bartimaeus?’) rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. “Sure, an old friend can.”

“So—“

“Which we are not,” Bartimaeus cut Faquarl off. “So, I ask again, what do you want?” 

Faquarl’s grin was vicious and Nathaniel felt a shiver of fear run through him. Bartimaeus stared back unflinchingly and waited as Faquarl pulled out a cream envelope. 

“I have a message from Hopkins,” he drawled and handed the letter over the counter. Bartimaeus snatched it away and ripped it open. He quickly scanned its contents, his eyes growing larger as he read on.

“As you can see,” Faquarl continued smoothly, “this area is going under considerable renovations. The buildings surrounding yours are expected to bring in a lot of customers and money. To help achieve this we are forced to increase your rent, we apologize for any inconvenience,” the words were apologetic but the tone was anything but. If anything, Faquarl seemed to take cruel enjoyment from the news. 

“Well,” Bartimaeus began and calmly placed the letter on the counter, “you can tell Hopkins to go fu-“

“—Forward in his ventures,” Kitty cut in loudly and pushed Bartimaeus behind her with a pinch to his arm. She stretched her hand out and smiled tightly as Faquarl shook it. Faquarl smirked at the sullen Bartimaeus behind her and cleared his throat.

“It’s always a pleasure doing business with you.” He turned to leave and Bartimaeus flipped off his retreating back.

“Always a pleasure doing business with you my ass,” he huffed angrily. Kitty turned on her heel as the grin slipped off her face and smacked Bartimaeus upside the head. “Ow, what the fuck?” 

“You’re such an idiot! If it were up to you they’d have us out of business in a heartbeat,” Kitty growled. “I hate them, too, but I at least have the common sense to keep my mouth shut.” 

Bartimaeus opened his mouth and then shut it; turning he finally noticed Nathaniel and narrowed his eyes.

“Who the fuck are you?” 

“Nathaniel,” he said with wide eyes. 

“Nat, eh?” Bartimaeus said and studied him seriously. 

“Queezle talked to him on the phone,” Kitty added. “He’s here for a working interview.”

After a moment of deliberation Bartimaeus spoke again, “Nathaniel, what did you think of Faquarl?”

Nathaniel glanced between Kitty and Bartimaeus in confusion. Kitty rolled her eyes but nodded, signaling her boss was serious.

“I thought he was an asshole?” He asked uncertainly. At the gleam of triumph in Bartimaeus’s eyes he continued more confidently, “Yeah, major asshole.” 

“Cool,” Bartimaeus nodded decisively, “you’re hired.”


End file.
